


A Better Life

by BlueRoboKitty



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Gen, implied nymance, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRoboKitty/pseuds/BlueRoboKitty
Summary: “You can have a better life.”She really, really could make it better, couldn’t she?Turn this ship around. And go back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished that Nyma fic I've been planning on for months but never really sat down to work on it. I'm so excited it's finished! I just really love Nyma, and I hope we'll get to see more of her in later seasons. Enjoy!

“You can have a better life.”

 

She’s heard these words since she can remember. This is the well-meaning but misguided wish parents whisper to their children the moment they are born. A better life than they had. A handful of new chances they’ve long since run out of.

 

But it’s just empty hope because their own parents had that same exact wish and look what happened. Generation after generation, the children grow up to be just like their parents who whisper naïve wishes to their children who’ll grow up to be just like them. And the circle goes around again.

 

That’s why she took a chance on this Rolo guy.

 

Theirs was more of a planet-sized factory than an actual planet, not actually run by Galra but not that it matters because their government is just as nasty; faceless entities whose voices were only heard through changes that trickled down to their industrial districts and not for the better.

 

Rolo owned a junkshop in one of the sleazier sides of the Welder’s district. He was cleaner looking than most even if his shock of white hair and scruffy face were both in need of a trim. Built-strong, could pass for a young person if not for the crow’s feet around his eyes from life experience and the general passing of time, eyes which regarded her with patience and a small amount of interest. A green stalk of some plant that definitely did not come from around here moved up and down as he chewed the stem in thought while she made her case to be a part of his crew the next time he went off-planet.

 

“What did you say your name was again?” he asked with a slight drawl of an accent that also didn’t come from this area.

 

“Nyma,” she replied shortly.

 

Chew chew chew.

 

“And you’re how old?”

 

“Old enough.”

 

Chew. And he pulled the stalk out of his mouth with a sigh. “Uh huh. Go home, kid.”

 

Go home. And home was what, exactly, back in those days? Back to her ailing, resentful grandmother and empty rooms? Back to stressed-out parents who forced smiles on their faces and pretended their lives were just as good as anyone else’s so that they could remain in their comfort zone while expecting _her_ to make something more out of it?

 

The only way she was going to make anything involving herself any better was by leaving this damn planet. Rolo was stubborn, but he led a carefree smuggler’s life judging by all the exotic goods and illicit Galra tech stocked on his secret shelves. He could come and go as he pleased disguised as a merchant runner. Nyma’s stubbornness came from slaving away on a circuit assembly line all day and then returning home to a dying old hag and parents whose smiles never reached their dead eyes. And so many empty rooms.

 

No, she was here now, and she wasn’t going anywhere. Because going back was not an option. Rolo was the only accessible smuggler she knew about, not as secretive as the others and open to the community, garnering him a reputation of respect. And no ship was said to be faster than his. So she chose him.

 

She expected him to say no, of course. Smugglers were loners, limiting the chances of inevitable betrayal.

 

Two rest cycles ago, she ended up at a high society party far up in the Gemscape district, way too far up for most plebs like her to dare climb. The natural light hurt her eyes, but she used that to her advantage as she flirted with the guard to let her in, gazing up at him through long lashes that actually fluttered in pain. It’s amazing how far you can get if your clothes are tight enough without trying and you giggle a lot.

 

Now she watched him with immense satisfaction as Rolo’s eyes all but popped out of his head while she presented him with an Illithu gem, one of the rarest stones in the galaxy, plucked right off the neck of a charmed politician’s wife with too much perfume and way too much drink. There’s not a collector in the entire local cluster who would not sell their own children to have one of these in their display.

 

She’s been a crewmember and partner in Rolo’s smuggler runs ever since, the brains of all their operations. She takes all the risks Rolo felt too cautious to go after in his time before her. Not that she blames him one bit. Rolo has been imprisoned by the Galra once, and managed to escape by sacrificing his own leg in the process. Besides, she’s younger, prettier, and she’s more than happy to take those risks in his place.

 

Men are the same everywhere, from planet to planet and galaxy to galaxy. So easily swayed, always underestimating her because don’t you know that a woman’s looks are inversely proportional to how smart she is? This truth allows her to go places Rolo can’t and gets them out of situations that would land them both in a Galra cell otherwise. And as they sort through their latest contraband with their little robot named Beezer, Nyma swears once again that they will always be free, she’ll make damn sure of it.

 

Her body may be whole, but she knows what it means to be a prisoner. Everyone on their homeworld is a prisoner, no matter how much their glazed gazes wish their children to make things otherwise.

 

 

It’s her idea to take one of the Voltron Lions.

 

It’s her craziest, riskiest idea yet. They haven’t made contact with the Galra all these years, and they have made quite the dent in one of Zarkon’s merchant fleets. Rolo most definitely has his misgivings about the whole scheme, but once the Blue Lion is locked inside the cargo bay of their freighter, the reality that they may actually pull this off makes him far less nervous.

 

The reward the Galra Empire will give them will set them both up for life. For quite a few lives.

 

“You’ve been starin’ at that Lion for the past hour,” Rolo remarks with a smile. “You should be proud. With a reward that fat, lots of scummy bastards will be crawlin’ from all over to go after these Lions, and yet you are the first to capture one. And with no issue.”

 

“It’s whatever,” Nyma replies cooly with a shrug and a flip of one of her head appendages over her shoulder. “I don’t think I had a job all that easier. Probably did that princess of theirs a favor by taking that Lion out of its knight’s incompetent hands.”

 

“Yikes,” Rolo chuckles as he stands up from straight from leaning against the doorframe, fiddling with the green stalk in his mouth. “You’re scary right now. Feelin’ alright?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Just that looking at the Lion, the blue shell of its metal body gleaming in the dim light, makes her sick to her stomach.

 

To think she was actually excited to ride in that thing for a little bit.

 

That’s what happens when you grow up in a society full of wishful thinkers. Stories and stories of Voltron, the defender of the universe, passed down from generation after generation, a giant robot that stood against evil and injustice. That they have nothing to worry about because one day, _one day,_ Voltron will come save them all. They smile even as the Galra Empire stops by and makes an example of a random district in order to remind their government who is _really_ in charge here. That it’s okay because as long as they have hope, _one day_ Voltron will come for them.

 

But where was Voltron when the Galra stopped by for one of Zarkon’s example visits?

Where was Voltron when Galra soldiers stormed the Third Assembly district, setting everything they saw aflame?

 _Where was Voltron_ as she screamed in her father’s arms while he carried her away from their burning house?

 _Where was Voltron_ when the roof collapsed before her two little sisters could get out with their uncle who was just three ticks too slow carrying them out?

 _WHERE WAS VOLTRON_ when the entire district blamed her older brother for the Galra’s choice and had him publically executed because they were desperate for a scapegoat?

Where.

 

Because Voltron is nothing more than a child’s tale. A child’s tale told by parents who want their kids to have hope because they long ago gave up.

 

Voltron may have apparently shown up now and the Galra Empire may be tripping over themselves defending themselves against the myth, but it’s too late.

 

Ten thousand years too late.

 

Ten years too late.

 

Too late to save her home. Too late to save her grandmother from dying due to decades of exhaustive labor. Too late to save her parents from the ultimate grief of losing three of their children.

 

Too late to save _her_ who can’t fulfill her parents’ wish.

 

“You can have a better life, y’know,” Rolo says, voice soft. “That blue one was really into you.”

 

She doesn’t respond so Rolo continues.

 

“I imagine the life of bein’ the partner of a Voltron knight must be really nice. That Castle is a beaut. All the room you can want. Servants at your command. Good food. Clean place to sleep. A hot bath every night. Absolute luxury. Once those knights start makin’ a name for themselves ‘round these parts, they’ll be celebrated as heroes. We’ve both already heard the rumors. You’ll never want for anything ever again.”

 

She snorts, and he sighs.

 

“C’mon, Nyma. You know. Life on the run from the Galra Empire is no life. Yeah, it’s thrillin’ sometimes but if an opportunity of somethin’ better ever comes along, you should take it. You’re still young. Go back now. Return his Lion. That kid really liked you, I saw the whole thing. I’m sure he’ll understand. He’ll go easy on you. Even forgive you.”

 

“And leave you behind?” she finally says, and looks at him.

 

“Eh, I’m old. I’ll manage. Maybe they need an extra butler.”

 

She rolls her eyes. But that doesn’t stop her from actually _considering_ his words, and her brain takes the possibility he presents and runs with it as far as it can go.

 

She could. She really could. Even Rolo’s giving her his blessing.

 

Voltron is just a child’s tale, and she doesn’t believe it even now.

 

But.

 

In that moment.

 

She sat in the Blue Lion. She felt it move all around her, a force of pure power. And all her childhood memories came rushing back to her with every hum and purr. The not-so-bad memories. The memories where she and her friends swapped tales of Voltron they heard from their parents, when they imagined together what it would be like if Voltron were to sweep down from the sky and save them all _right now._

 

Voltron is _real._ In that moment, _Voltron is real._

 

In that moment, she is _saved._

 

She really, really could make it better, couldn’t she?

 

Turn this ship around. And go back.

 

 

Go back to _what,_ exactly?

 

 

A life of hunting Galra instead of stealing from them? A life of lonely nights wondering if her new “husband” would come back from battle none the worse for wear? A life of sitting on the sidelines while she watches Voltron save every planet but the one that actually matters?

 

It’s just another prison.

 

None of this has ever been about the _money._ If it was, she’d already be living a life of luxury she bought for her remaining family with the Illithu gem just before she left them forever. A smuggler’s life may be a dangerous one but it’s a _free_ one, and it’s the life she chose for herself.

 

For her own sake and no one else’s.

 

And she never would have come this far if she went back anywhere.

 

 

 

Sometimes she dreams of that night.

 

The smoke and the fire and the screams.

 

Only this time she’s her current age, and this time she is the one who is trapped in a collapsing building. She tries to cough out the smoke burning her lungs and her body aches with pain. Not even her own memories when she’s awake are this vivid. And this time there is something falling from the sky as if to combat the fire, and it's rain, which is interesting because she's never seen rain until she left. 

 

Someone stands over her on the fallen rubble, and the blue of his armor gleams in the light pouring from behind him. And those eyes, those kind, kind eyes are both frightened and relieved as he calls her name and reaches his hand out for her.

 

 

 

She never takes it.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://redrobokitty.tumblr.com)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/bluerobokitty)  
>  hmu


End file.
